THE FLOOD
// take my heart and make it feel,
take my soul and make it real
take my soul and make it real
Letting her wring out her sleeves, he waits before she seems particularly frustrated – misconstruing his words as she always had despite how he’d never quite been the best at saying it anyway. So he sighs, hand weaving through the air briefly to pull the rest of the water from her sodden clothes into a glittering ribbon of rainbow hues so very similar to the Oasis where they’d swam what felt like ages ago. When he’d been a different man. When Caido was different, and yet they were still acting the same.
“Maea, you’re misunderstanding me. Again.” A punctuated point to try and get through to her – though this time without the anger that he’d always shied away from because of his father. It wasn’t like their argument on the beach before she’d went and died, but the sentiments were the same. A feeling of just fucking listen for a minute.
Steading himself with a breath, focusing on the water like a moment of meditation, he looks back to her and lets the water drop to the ground in little raindrops. “Remember when I first met you? Remember when you didn’t want to use your magic because you were too afraid of what you’d be like with it?” He cocks his head toward her, an avian flare. “You let it dictate your life. You couldn’t do this because you didn’t know the extent of your magic and what happens if you hurt someone?” Feathers sprout through his navy tattoos for emphasis as he watches her, a lingering look that seems to say ringing any bells?
“Now you're trying to tell me that power's gone to your head and you don't know how to stop it? Reflect on that. Think about other people, first of all, like you used to. Maybe take a second to ask them what they want, instead of what you think they want.” Pausing for emphasis, he sighs a little and tries to subconsciously smooth out the feathers sprouting from his skin. "Like how in the meeting with Dahlia you just decided for all of us that we couldn't play nice because it wasn't what you wanted?"
“Maea, you’re misunderstanding me. Again.” A punctuated point to try and get through to her – though this time without the anger that he’d always shied away from because of his father. It wasn’t like their argument on the beach before she’d went and died, but the sentiments were the same. A feeling of just fucking listen for a minute.
Steading himself with a breath, focusing on the water like a moment of meditation, he looks back to her and lets the water drop to the ground in little raindrops. “Remember when I first met you? Remember when you didn’t want to use your magic because you were too afraid of what you’d be like with it?” He cocks his head toward her, an avian flare. “You let it dictate your life. You couldn’t do this because you didn’t know the extent of your magic and what happens if you hurt someone?” Feathers sprout through his navy tattoos for emphasis as he watches her, a lingering look that seems to say ringing any bells?
“Now you're trying to tell me that power's gone to your head and you don't know how to stop it? Reflect on that. Think about other people, first of all, like you used to. Maybe take a second to ask them what they want, instead of what you think they want.” Pausing for emphasis, he sighs a little and tries to subconsciously smooth out the feathers sprouting from his skin. "Like how in the meeting with Dahlia you just decided for all of us that we couldn't play nice because it wasn't what you wanted?"
'cause i was bright, yeah I was pale and blue,
starry eyed by every thought of you //
starry eyed by every thought of you //
Feel free to use magic/force on Sunjata, without killing him <3
Sunjata speaks with an Australian accent and has a passive magic that makes him produce a subtle scent that matches exactly to whatever those around him most desire him to smell like.
